Blessing Of A God
by Cyn V
Summary: A short tale from Asturian Mythology: the blessing of Asturia and the Golden Age. [Annex to 'Under the Same Stars']


**Disclaimer:** Vision of Escaflowne _isn't mine. This piece, its plot and OCs, however, are. So pH3ar me (as that would be acid and easily corrode most metals)._**  
Summary:**_ A short tale from Asturian Mythology – Asturia's blessing and the Golden Age. Annex piece to _Under the Same Stars,_ concerning a minor subject that came up and I could not resist toying with it for at least a little. (I am too lenient on my Tolkien-vein.) I think this might also have a bit of foreshadowing, but it's so very small that I'll bet I'm the only one who can see it (even if you _had_ read all the way through _Bloodstained_). However, they are two grown up fics – over-age and vaccinated; they each have a house of their own._**  
Notes: **_Pronunciations are as follow (underlined equals tonic and 'R's are always sonorous): _Jichia – Gee-she-a; Tur'Arkait – Too-rar-kite; Túria – Too-ree-a; Bellaso – Beh-lah-sso; Guezaria – _(soft g as in "egg")_ geh-zah-ree-a; Ortwas – ort-vase.

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Ages ago, but not so long that Atlantis still prospered, Gaea was in a state of disarray due to the downfall of the Draconians. The supreme power of the Atlantean people had failed them and all order that their intellectual minds had designed had collapsed alongside their empire. Humans and beast-men had since then naturally congregated around self-appointed leaders and these tribes were scattered throughout the land, disorganised and frail in their smallness and disparity.

At the same time the first boundaries of the fragments, that would unite and constitute the Seven Great Realms of Gaea in millennia to come, were set, tensions and disputes between the various people were in the making, already threatening to blossom into the wars that had certainly come afterwards.

Amid all the chaos and despite the blooming causes, the people of Gaea felt lost without the guidance of the Draconians and as if to correct this, powerful entities with stone-set purposes arose from the planet. They were the Gods of Gaea.

One of them was Jichia, the Sea Dragon. The glittering scales that covered his body could be seen through the water when the sun shone brightly, and the immense creature's body was able to cut through the tides at such a speed that he could appear to be everywhere at the same time if he so pleased. Jichia, the Wanderer, roamed all the oceans of Gaea, creating the waves that lapped at every shore, and knew the lay of all lands and the location of all people. Like the transparent waters of which he made his abode, the great Sea Dragon favoured those who were pure of heart and innocent. Although he tolerated them, he had no love for the corrupt or the war-loving, and was mistrustful of adult men.

Thus, it was believed that no monarch or country would ever gain the blessing of Jichia and conquer the oceans. Many were said to have sailed across Gaea in search of the Sea Dragon and to gain his favour, but even those who succeeded in finding the God returned empty-handed. Until Tur'Arkait.

Tur'Arkait was a young man with a quick mind and steady hand, leader and founder of a recent alliance of tribes. He had already achieved much in his short years, first by bringing those tribes into accord and then setting the foundations to a neutral city that all within the alliance could equally call theirs. This city, Bellaso it was named, was the only territory that Tur'Arkait could truly claim as his, for members of the alliance, called Túria, kept their lands as theirs, with the sole imposition that all people of Túria be free to enter land belonging to member tribes other than their own.

Ever restless and not content with what he had already accomplished, Tur'Arkait resolved that he would set out to bring even more of the scattered tribes together and unite them under the banner of the recently-founded Túria. In order to do that, he decided that he would need the blessing of Jichia, so that he could safely cross the seas and share the God's knowledge of the location of other lands and settlements. Like many before him, he departed to find the kind but unyielding Dragon.

For seven years he searched, learning much in his travels and even succeeding in bringing some more tribes to join Túria, but found no indication of the whereabouts of the wandering God. After much reluctance to admitting defeat, he eventually made the decision to forfeit his quest and return to Bellaso to continue his work in consolidating the alliance.

On his journey back, while admiring his city that was beautifully set against the horizon, a sudden quicksilver gleam brought Tur'Arkait's attention down to the waters. He instantly recognised the shape from all the descriptions he had heard – he had found Jichia.

Following the God to a cave cut into the side of a ravine just next to the boundaries of Bellaso, the young King disembarked and continued on his own through the spacious canals of an underground river. In the centre of the water-carved maze, he found an immense gallery with an opening into the sky. It was illuminated by a myriad of dancing reflections from the light hitting the rippling surface of a great lake. And just outside it, rested the Dragon. Tur'Arkait finally had his opportunity to speak to the God, face to face.

"Speak!" The Dragon's roaring voice echoed loudly in the cave walls, when the King said nothing – the intense power emanating from the God was leaving Tur'Arkait bereft of all his usual courage. "Who are you and what brings you to my abode?"

"I am a humble servant, great Jichia, and I come to seek your approval and blessing for my people. I am Tur'Arkait and I lead the unified people of Túria, whose capital city lies but three kilometres North-West of this cave."

"Then you can go back the same way you arrived, as all others who came to see me before you. I will not condone any of your doings, impure son of men. I do not care for your personal aspirations to greatness, O King", Jichia slowly recited in his gravely voice. "I guard only the innocent and pure-hearted that are caught in the middle of your brewing wars. Leave", he commanded imperiously, but the hurt in the God's heart for the helpless was so great and palpable that it felt like massive waves were hitting Tur'Arkait and his knees gave way.

"The many tribes of Gaea are leaderless and divided; if they seek to destroy their neighbours it is only for lack of compassion and frivolity towards foreigners. Thus, at Túria, we strive to bring people together, give them something to have in common with the others and ultimately avoid these wars."

The Great Dragon fixed one of his icy blue eyes on the kneeling man. "You mean to subjugate them?"

"Never. Túria has no claim on their lands, politics or army. It is an Empire of the mind. We ask the tribes that they treat all Turins the same as their own tribe-members, and in return, we give them Bellaso and access to the world." Before Jichia, the King found that all his shields were down and even if he had wanted to lie, he could not have. It was like all words were being placed in his mouth.

"Then why do you need my approval, mortal man?"

"To go to other continents, and expand the number of parties in the alliance."

"Power corrupts, son of men, and even if your goals are noble and selfless now, you will find that they will not remain as so for long. Yours is an Empire based on words, and I have come to learn that mortals deal best with swords. I deny you my blessing."

Jichia turned to disappear back into the waters and, suddenly released from the God's hold, Tur'Arkait took heart and called out to the Dragon. He could not fail, not when he had been so close. "So little trust in men, you have."

"It is not a matter of trust, but knowledge."

"Knowledge? You say that grown men are cruel and doomed to failure, and yet here I stand with an Empire behind me that has already brought peace and stability to many, prevented wars that were bound to erupt. Túria may come to fail in the future, but for now it lives, and the present is all that we mortals have."

The Dragon paused to consider Tur'Arkait once again with piercing eyes. "And yet all the power you wield and hold under your unworthy hand is enough to bring forth wars unlike any others before in dimension."

"The potential to do something does not equal to the will to do it, nor does it make it bound to happen. A mother has the potential to disregard her child, and instead she cares for and nurses her babe."

"Spoken like a true King", the Dragon said, pleased. "You have convinced me, Tur'Arkait. You have my wisdom and my blessing. But be wary. Should you use it for any other purpose other than that which you have given me, doom will befall you and your beloved Túria."

"You have my word, great lord Jichia", the King bowed to the God.

His heart had swelled to such proportions that he felt he could accomplish anything he set out to do, and, perhaps through some borrowed power of foresight from the God, all he saw were clear blue skies ahead for Túria.

Tur'Arkait extended Bellaso and built his palace over the sacred cave where he had conversed with Jichia. By the time the First King Tur'Arkait passed on his Empire to his descendant, all of Gaea was in peaceful harmony, united under the banner of Túria.

Years turned into decades, and decades into centuries. And the First King's legacy remained as strong as it had been in the days of his life. Many a generation would rule during this Golden Age of Gaea, but ultimately perfection is something the Gods do not share for long.

Jichia's prediction came true, and factions arose within Túria, led by power-hungry men. A God's breath later, and Túria was no more, divided into seven: Bazuram to the south and Guezaria to the far north, Vanel to the east and Tseibac to the far west, Freid, Ortwas and Westúria – the remnants of the original Túria. Still ruled by descendants of Tur'Arkait, Bellaso, now Pallaso, became capital of Westúria, or western Túria.

With frontiers to set and enemies to fight, Jichia's curse befell on all of Gaea. Harmony was gone, never to return until the time for the Gods to wander mortal lands came again. War was once more unleashed and Cruelty returned with a vengeance after centuries of starvation. Only Westúria, which had remained loyal to Tur'Arkait's principles, retained the blessing of the Sea Dragon God and remained in relative peace.

As the centuries passed, names evolved again, into their final form: Bazuram became Basram – Guezaria turned into Egzardia – Vanel to Fanelia – Tseibac, Zaibach – Freid was constant – Ortwas, Cesario – and Westúria, Asturia.

And millennia after the days of Tur'Arkait, only Asturia retained the blessing of the Sea Dragon God, and flourished thanks to the oceans. The harbours of its capital, Pallas, housed ships of all sizes and origins, and true to the First King's policy of open borders, wanderers and foreigners were free to enter it and there build their homes or set up their business.

As for Jichia, the God was never again seen on Gaea, since his encounter with Tur'Arkait, but the softhearted Sea Dragon never left the minds and hearts of the Asturian people. The oceans too remember the glitter of his scales, and pay special homage to it when the sun and moons are low over their waters and the God is closest.

** - Fin -**


End file.
